Blood in the Dust Page 8

  The publican, Chris Stanton, shuffled backwards and forwards along the opposite side of the bar, filling pannikins and collecting empty bottles. He greeted Toby with a friendly smile.

  ‘Sorry about your folks, Toby.’ His voice had a softness that belied his size. ‘If there’s anything I can do, you be sure and let me know.’

  ‘That’s why I’m here, Chris.’ Toby leaned on the bar. ‘You get to meet just about everybody who passes through here. Do you know of any men looking for work?’

  The barman put down a half-filled bottle and cocked his head towards Toby. ‘What kind of work?’

  ‘Droving a mob of cattle from here to the Bendigo diggings. Two hundred and thirty head to be exact.’

  Stanton lifted his head towards the roof as he pondered the question. ‘Pelham and Grey was in here yesterday asking the same question. I thought ol’ man Pelham had all the workers he needed.’

  ‘So did I,’ Toby said. ‘As far as I know, he does all his hiring from the sale yards?’ He felt a nagging suspicion creep into his guts, the same one as from the night of Pelham’s visit.

  Chris nodded. ‘Told him I hadn’t heard of anyone looking for work, then the strangest thing happened.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Two men wandered in here yesterday evening and asked about work in the area. Funny-looking coves. Don’t know if they will be any good to you, though. One was missing an eye and the other a hand. Maybe Pelham found ’em first but passed ’em up on account of their appearance. I don’t even know if they’re still around – haven’t seen them in here today.’

  ‘Did they say where they were camped?’

  ‘Down by the creek along with everyone else. Up near the crossing I think they said.’

  Toby thanked the barman and left the hotel. He crossed the track and walked down the side of the police horse yard towards the creek. There were about two dozen tents of all colours and sizes lining the banks, some snowy-white and new, others dirtied with age and hard use.

  A small dog ran from a tent and barked ferociously about Toby’s heels until a heavily bearded man yelled for it to be quiet. ‘I’m looking for two men,’ Toby told the man. ‘One is missing an eye and the other a hand.’ The man simply pointed towards the far end of the encampment and went back to whatever he had been doing.

  Down near the crossing Toby found a camp consisting of two bedrolls on either side of a fire. A man sat poking at the coals with a stick while another lay on a bedroll and watched. Two horses were tethered to a gum tree which shaded the camp. He wasn’t sure he had found the right camp until the man at the fire turned and fixed him with an icy stare from a solitary eye.

  ‘What do you want, boy?’ One-eye stood up. He still held the stick and its end smouldered with a thin wisp of smoke. His thin frame loomed a good head and shoulders over Toby. A black patch covered his left eye.

  ‘I heard you were looking for work.’

  ‘Who told you that?’ The man on the bedroll got to his feet. He was about Toby’s height, but a little heavier and had a thick crop of blond hair and little, pig-like eyes that squinted from behind thick glasses. His right arm terminated at a large metal hook secured to his wrist by means of a leather bucket and straps.

  Toby had to force himself to stop staring at the hook, deciding to look into the man’s glasses. ‘Er – Chris, the barman at the hotel. You told him you were looking for work in the area.’

  One-eye threw the stick onto the fire and stepped forward, effectively establishing himself as spokesman for the pair. ‘What sort of work you offering?’

  ‘Droving,’ Toby said flatly. ‘A mob of cattle from here to Bendigo Creek.’

  The one-eyed stranger seemed to ponder this. He rubbed his stubbly chin and glanced at Hook, who gave a noncommittal squint.

  ‘How much your father payin’’, boy?’ One-eye asked.

  ‘My father’s dead. My brother and me are paying three shillings a day until the cattle are in the yards in Bendigo Creek. I expect the drive to take from five days to a week. No longer.’

  ‘Me and Dundas are wantin’ to head to the Bendigo diggings eventually. We ran out of money on the Ballarat fields and thought we’d try our luck up there, but we need to raise some more money first. Make it four shillings a day and we’re your men.’

  ‘I’ll go to three and six, but that’s it,’ Toby retorted, feeling pleased with his bartering skills.

  The two men looked at each other for several seconds. ‘Agreed,’ One-eye said. ‘You drive a hard deal, boy.’

  ‘If you’re going to work for me then you’d better call me Toby.’

  One-eye thrust his right hand forward and Toby took it, matching the man’s grip as his arm was pumped up and down.

  ‘I’m Scotchy,’ the man said. ‘My friend here is Dundas.’

  Toby was tactful enough to change hands before shaking with the other man. The handshake felt awkward, but Dundas’ grip was tight and wiry.

  ‘You can ride back to our place with my brother and me if you like. We just came to town to grab some supplies at the store. We’re about ready to leave.’

  ‘Tell you what,’ Scotchy said. ‘We’ll get ourselves packed up and meet you at the store in ten minutes.’

  ‘Got any decent feed at your place, Toby?’ Dundas asked as he lifted his saddle off the ground. ‘For our horses I mean. They haven’t had nothin’ but dry grass and a few apples some brats were feedin’ ’em yesterday.’

  ‘I’ve got a few bags of chaff. I guess they’ll need a good feed.’ He eyed the tight stomachs on the horses. ‘We’ll fix ’em up.’ He turned away and headed back up the creek towards the store.

  There was no sign of Paddy at the wagonette. Toby climbed onto the footboard and spotted his brother standing by the horse yard at the police post. Two horsemen were in the yard and he felt his heart race as he realised it was McTavish and Barraworn.

  He jumped from the wagonette and sprinted to the yard. The policemen were unsaddling their mounts. McTavish had many days of beard and he moved like an old man, saddle weary and bone tired. He saw Toby and Paddy standing by the rails and came over, dropping the saddle on a fencepost.

  ‘I did no’ expect to see you boys here,’ the sergeant said. His uniform was covered in dust and his nose glowed with sunburn.

  ‘We came to get some supplies.’ The obvious question nagged at Toby, but he held his tongue. McTavish would tell them what had happened out in the ranges when he was ready.

  McTavish brushed some of the dust from his jacket. As he worked he glanced about the cluster of buildings. His eyes seemed to be everywhere – everywhere except on the two anxious faces before him.

  ‘We followed their trail for eight days,’ the sergeant finally said. ‘They made for the river and followed it upstream for a while before striking out east. Then they cut across the north road above the Kilmore Gap and headed into the ranges east of there. That’s where we lost them. One moment the trail was there, easy to follow, the next it was gone. It was like it had never existed. Barraworn cast back and forth for a day without finding anything. Anderson and his gang just rode up to the mountains, their spoor plain to see, and when they got there they decided they weren’t going to leave a trail any more.’

  Toby slapped a hand onto the fence rail. ‘They can’t have vanished into thin air.’

  ‘Barraworn thinks he did, laddie. He thinks there was some sort of magic involved. You know what his lot are like when they get the notion there has been magic at work. He was scared out of his wits.’

  ‘Maybe he was too scared to find the trail, or didn’t want to.’

  ‘Unfair, laddie,’ McTavish said, but his voice carried no tone of rebuke. ‘Scared or no’, Barraworn could track each individual horse around the course at Royal Ascot a week after the event. I wanted a different outcome for you boys. I really did. But there was nothing more we could do. The trail just stopped at the mountains and went no further.’

  Toby and Paddy left th
e two policemen to their tasks and wandered back to the wagonette, heads hung low.

  Scotchy and Dundas were nowhere to be seen. Toby looked up and down the row of tents along the creek bank, but apart from a few diggers sitting around a campfire, there was no one else about.

  ‘Climb up, Pad,’ he told his brother. ‘Looks like we’ll have to find the coves.’

  He wheeled the wagonette around and headed along the creek. When they reached the spot where Scotchy and Dundas had been camped, the ground was empty, the bedrolls made up and the horses gone. Toby flicked the reins and guided them out onto the main road.

  Scotchy and Dundas were standing on the hotel verandah. Dundas had a whisky bottle in his hand and the pair were talking to Henry Pelham and George Grey. He reined the wagonette to a stop alongside the verandah. Grey was his usual surly self, cocking his head to one side and studying the brothers with a sneer on his lips. Pelham looked up and smiled at them.

  ‘Ah! The O’Rourke boys. I was just having a word with the two drovers you have taken on for the drive to the diggings. I knew you would get onto the matter as soon as possible, Toby.’

  ‘Leaving the day after tomorrow, Mr Pelham. I’ll have your money for you in a fortnight.’

  Pelham waved a dismissive hand. ‘No rush, my boy, no rush. I shan’t detain your employees any longer. I just wanted to wish them well with the drive. They look a fine pair of fellows. I’m sure they will serve you well over the coming days.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Pelham.’ Toby touched a finger to the brim of his hat then turned to the two drovers. ‘I thought you two were going to meet us beside the store.’

  Dundas lifted his face and Toby saw the contempt in the little pig eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Scotchy placed a hand on his arm and said, ‘Sorry, Mr O’Rourke. We were on our way. Just grabbed a bottle of whisky to slip into my saddlebag. Then we got talking to these gents. Sorry to have caused you any delay.’ There was such sincerity in his voice that Toby felt ashamed for snapping at him.

  ‘No harm done. I just want to be off the track before dark.’

  ‘Well, we had better get moving, then,’ Scotchy said. He and Dundas walked to the end of the verandah where their horses were tied. Dundas slipped the whisky bottle into his saddlebag and the men mounted up, taking positions at either side of the wagonette.

  ‘I shall pay you a visit in a fortnight, Mr Pelham, and settle the matter at hand.’ Toby touched a finger to his hat again and flicked the reins. He heard Pelham’s voice behind him.

  ‘Safe travels, boys.’

  Paddy awoke to something shaking his bed. He opened his eyes and lifted his head from the pillow. Beyond the little window it was still dark outside, but light from a lantern flooded through the door, along with the aroma of frying bacon and eggs. Toby was silhouetted against the doorway.

  ‘C’mon, lazybones.’ The bed shook again and he realised Toby was kicking it. ‘We’ve got a mob of cattle to drive to Bendigo Creek.’

  The smell of cooking did more to spur Paddy along than his brother’s words. Within moments, he was dressed and sitting at the kitchen table where Scotchy and Dundas were waiting.

  They ate in silence by the light of an oil lamp and then washed down the meal with sweetened tea. When they stepped out onto the verandah, the eastern sky was aglow, but the stars still showed overhead.

  ‘I’ll get you to drive the wagonette,’ Toby told Dundas as he shrugged his jacket on. ‘I don’t doubt your skills on a horse, but Paddy knows the countryside around here. If we have any bolters, he’ll be able to chase them down without getting trapped in a blind gully.’

  Dundas removed his glasses and polished the lenses on the tail of his shirt. ‘Suits me fine,’ he said, squinting at Toby. ‘I’ll do all the driving if you want?’

  ‘We’ll share it around,’ Toby said. ‘Everyone will get a break from horseback from time to time.’ Dundas blinked and settled his glasses back on his nose, making a show of tucking the wire arms around his ears.

  Knowing that he might be in for some hard riding today, Paddy took extra care when cinching down his saddle and adjusting the stirrups. This was not his first cattle drive. He had accompanied his father and Toby to the sale yards in Geelong on several occasions. Those mobs had been small enough for three riders to manage. On this drive, they had four times as many cattle and still only three riders, although the wagonette driver would be expected to mount up at a moment’s notice if needed to lend a hand.

  Toby walked Moonlight to the gate and swung into the saddle. He looked down at Paddy who was still fussing with the musket in its scabbard. ‘How’s your head, Pad? You sure you want to be on horseback? I can swap you onto the wagonette.’

  Paddy looked up at Toby and shook his head. The headaches weren’t so bad now, and the scar on the side of his scalp only hurt a little bit whenever he pressed it gently with a finger.

  ‘You be careful, matey. Don’t fall off, whatever you do. The doc said to be mindful of that wound.’

  Paddy gave a thumbs up and took up Patch’s reins as Toby spurred his mount forward.

  ‘Get down to the slip rails and open ’em up, Pad,’ Toby yelled over his shoulder. ‘I’ll get the mob moving. Make sure you and Scotchy are in a position to turn ’em down the track once the leaders come through.’

  Paddy nodded that he understood and trotted Patch down to the slip rails with Scotchy following along behind. When he reached them, he dismounted, looped his reins over a post and pushed the rails wide open. Scotchy rode through the gap and took up a position to the left of the track.

  Looking back to the homestead, Paddy could see his brother trotting Moonlight back and forth as he pushed the mob together. Toby had his stock whip in his hand. He twirled it about his head a couple of times and sent it snaking out to explode in a loud crack that echoed off the ranges. The cattle shied away from the noise and trotted towards the open slip rails, a river of black and tan bodies, gaining momentum with each passing second. Paddy mounted up and waited and watched, his whip twirling about his head. As the lead cattle came through, he flicked his arm and the tip cracked like a gunshot. The river of cattle changed course, turning down the track towards Scotchy. Already, a pall of dust that Paddy knew would be with them all the way to Bendigo Creek hung in the air.

  When the last of the herd had passed through the slip rails, Toby waited until Dundas had guided the wagonette through then slid from the saddle and closed off the paddock. He paused to look up at the homestead and the ridge above it. Paddy followed the direction of his gaze and could see the shadow of the cross on their parents’ grave extending along the ridge.

  We’ll be back, he thought to himself, the words directed to the little rectangle of stones just visible in the dawn light. Then this place will be truly ours.

  He had no time for further melancholy. A shout from Scotchy warned him that something was happening, and he turned back to the mob to see that three beasts had broken away and were making a dash for the bush. He spurred Patch’s flanks and the horse shot forward, breaking into a gallop. By the time he reached them, the three cattle were in the treeline and starting up the ridge. He ducked under a low branch and spurred his horse again, getting in ahead of them. He twirled his stock whip around once and sent the tip flying towards the lead beast, a huge black steer. The leather thong cracked an inch from the animal’s nose. It baulked at the noise and turned along the ridge, leading its two companions with it.

  Paddy was ready for them. He lay along Patch’s neck, arms pumping hard like a jockey. As he drew beside them, he had the whip twirling again and let it fly towards the black steer. The tip cracked beside the steer’s ear and it almost stumbled as it turned away. The two animals behind it had to head downhill. The steer regained its stride and followed its comrades back down the ridge towards the mob. Paddy trotted Patch at their side until they joined with the herd. His heart pumped fast and he was breathing heavily, but there was a huge grin on his face. This was
the most fun he’d had in months.

  At noon they reached the outskirts of Bunyong Creek. Toby was riding the left flank and he turned the herd to pass the settlement on the northern side. Scotchy was on the right and Paddy rode at the rear near where Dundas followed along with the wagonette. From this position he was able to cut back and forth, ready to lend a hand to either of the flank riders, should trouble develop on their side.

  Patch had been bred to this work and enjoyed the chase just as much as his rider. Paddy could see his ears twitching towards every movement from the herd, the horse’s muscles tensing as he anticipated another fast run to chase down a bolter. He let the horse have a loose rein and stroked the animal’s neck. This was where he missed his voice the most. A soothing word could do more to calm his mount than anything else. On previous drives, he had chatted constantly. Patch was a good listener. Together, they had talked over the problems faced by a boy in the rural districts of the colony, the one-sided banter eating up the miles. Now, the talk was gone, and Paddy wondered if Patch missed it as well. He patted his mount’s neck affectionately and hoped he would understand.

  ‘Be needing to stop for a bite to eat soon.’

  Paddy looked across to where Dundas sat on the driver’s seat of the wagonette.

  ‘I hope your brother ain’t gonna keep us going all day?’

  Paddy knew that the country opened up once they crossed the creek. There was a large waterhole about a mile on the other side, and he guessed this was where Toby planned to stop. He tried to mime this out to Dundas by pretending that one arm was a creek and his other hand the mob of cattle. He swept his hand across his arm and made a fist on the other side, then looked at Dundas expectantly.

  The drover squinted up at him for a moment and then dropped the reins and waved his arms about like a lunatic, the hook at the end of his right arm slashing savagely through the air. ‘What the bloody hell does this mean?’ he growled at Paddy. ‘It don’t mean nothing.’ He shook his head as he took up the reins and steered the wagonette away to the far side of the herd.